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The Only Way (working title) PG-13

Skydra’s Amazingly Amazing Fanfiction™The Only Way
A Johto Epic
This fanfiction is rated PG-13 for violence, romantic content, and other things, not yet defined, that may turn up in the story. Rating subject to change depending on what direction the narrative goes in.
Introduction

This is my newest fan fiction, The Only Way. After some experimentation and an incomplete fanfic that didn’t quite work out, I have decided to go back to the basics and write a simple journey fic, set in Johto. This fanfic is both in an old format, the basic journey of a trainer, and a new format, one that includes no professor, no Pok&#233;dex and no set “starter” although it is not out of the question that he will obtain a Pok&#233;mon often meant as a starter. Also, although there are villains, they are not labeled Team ______ or some such form of naming prevalent for Pok&#233;mon wrongdoers.
Disclaimer
This is a Pok&#233;mon fanfic, so as is obvious it will contain many, often copyrighted or trademarked, things from the Pok&#233;mon universe. Many human characters were created by me, but all Pok&#233;mon (e.g. Marill) and many human characters (e.g. Lyra), as well as many locations (e.g. Johto Region) and items (e.g. Pok&#233; Ball), are made by the Pok&#233;mon design team and are as such not in any way claimed to be owned by me. Many of these imaginary things are either &#169; Nintendo, &#169; Game Freak, or &#169; Creatures Inc and all rights are reserved by them (e.g., if they were to tell me to stop writing this [I have no idea why, how many fanfics have been created that were claimed as violating copyright?] I would immediately stop writing it). Chapter beginnings may or may not contain lyrics, poems or other media also not owned by me. In short, anything related to anything thought to be plagiarism (I’m not plagiarizing anyone, but someone might think I am for whatever reason) and copyright laws is not intended as copyright infringement and is subject to complaint from select group or individual.

Prologue
“As one song ends, another begins."
Milla, The Seventh Tower by Garth Nix

The luxury limousine cruised down the well-kept street of a large city. The windows couldn’t be seen through at all from the outside, and the shiny black paint reflected the moonlight that streamed down from the heavens. Custom decals featuring a Meganium and a Marill, as well as a shining silver “C”, were painted on the left side, and the same “C” accompanied by an Ampharos and Miltank decorated the right. This standout vehicle could only belong to one person. And that was the Champion.

On her latest tour through the region, Lyra had just finished a battle demonstration at the Ecruteak Dance Theater and was arriving late into the night at a 5-star hotel in Goldenrod. Her two week tour had started in Cianwood City, her current home and would end in her hometown, New Bark Town. Then she would travel to the Pokemon League for her monthly week-long challenge acceptance term where those who had defeated the Elite Four could give battling her a try and potentially become the next Champion.

The town was still frequent with activity, although it was night. It was Johto’s “City that Never Sleeps.” Lyra preferred to call it “The City that Never Lets Anyone Get a Good Night’s Sleep,” based on her bias against large cities and the fact that she never slept well with noise. Cianwood and New Bark Town were the places she liked to be.

An intersection came upon them, and the driver pulled to a stop at the red light. Other vehicles, noticing the larger vehicle to the side, rolled down their windows and tried to get the Champion’s attention. They couldn’t see her through the dark tint, but they knew she was there. She didn’t pay attention though, as was customary. She just sat and observed the fans who stared at the limousine.

Lyra looked in the rear-view mirror as the car revved at the sight of the green light. She saw three vehicles behind her: one a small green convertible, one a dark blue truck, and the final an orange van. Nothing interesting, so she turned her gaze away.

Had she kept looking, she might have seen the dark sports car that came up behind the Champion-holding vehicle.

“Are we close?” she asked the driver, a tan-skinned man in his late 40’s. She wasn’t comfortable in large cities, and wanted to get inside as soon as she could.

“It’s up at the next intersection,” replied the driver.

Lyra sighed with relief, ready to sleep after a long day.

But others had other plans. And she had every right to be uncomfortable.
----------------------------------------------
The traffic extended into the distance. Sobbing Pok&#233;mon League representatives gazed at the scene before them. The driver, both arms wounded beyond repair and covered in bandages, looked upon the scene with wide eyes. He was in shock and had lost too much blood for comfort. But his troubles were inconsequential when compared to the worst that had happened that night.

Six Poke Balls lay in front of the Champion’s manager. She had cried out all her tears- now she just fingered the metal spheres but knew it wasn’t right to release their contents.

A phone call was made. Far away in a town bordering the sea, there was more tears. A six-year old sat with his father and cried into his arms. It was all the father could do to not sob as well. But he had to be strong for his son.

In another area that was both part of Johto and Kanto, a group of four gathered together in sadness as well. Eight other powerful trainers remembered their beloved rival and cried alone. Those watching late night news exclaimed after the breaking news flash.

For starters, I found two grammatical errors:"Ecruteak" should be spelled as I have it, and:The comma after the quote should be within the quotes themselves. There may be more, but I'm not incredibly good at finding them.
All in all, a great start. You set the scene well and introduce an interesting event that will most likely play a part in the conflict (what would be the point of having it there in the first place?).
.

Small errors you mentioned corrected. Thank's for the positive commentary.

“Are we close?” She asked the driver, a tan-skinned man in his late 40’s.

The "s" can't be capitalized after a spoken sentence.

Otherwise, you did a good job on this prologue. It certainly got my attention, which is a good thing. This looks like it has potential, and I'll be reading to find out what happens next. Hopefully, you can deliver on the promise that your story has built up.

Part 1
Beyond Cianwood
Or
The Beginning of the Journey1
“Stop, turn,
Take a look around,
At all the lights and sounds
Let ‘em bring you in…”
Yellowcard, Lights and Sounds
Ten Years later- Cianwood City, Port of Crashing Waves

A small blue four-legged Pokémon with a short trunk dashed towards a tall, brown-haired teenager. The Pokémon rolled into a tight ball and sped closer until stopping abruptly, with a sound not far from akin to a car braking hard, a few feet in front of the person.

“Good girl, Ellie,” complimented the teenager. He drew out a bright red-topped sphere and pressed the button. The Phanpy disappeared inside and the trainer went on his way across the beach toward his house.

A friendly neighbor viewed him come forth and greeted him as he walked past. He said hello back and turned from the beach to walk inland. His abode was up ahead a few hundred yards, the distance of which included two beautiful flowerbeds of red and blue that swayed in the slight breeze.

The trainer walked up the front porch to the door and heard a bark from inside. He opened the door to catch a quick glimpse of an orange dog with black stripes, also sporting a tan tail and mane, jumping at him playfully before he reflexively closed his eyes and the mutt licked his face lovingly.

This was the only real greeting he got. However, a written one was taped to the refrigerator that the trainer had came over to so he could grab a drink. The writing was unmistakably that of his father. He tore it off and read the short paragraph.

Carson-
I had to go catch a bus to go meet somebody for work. I left Blaze here. You’re sister will come back from her friend’s house at 2, so remember to be back by then if you go out any more.

P.S. There’s Oran juice in the fridge. Carson threw the note in the recycling and opened the fridge. As promised, a brand of Oran Berry juice sat in the cold refrigerator behind the Moomoo Milk.

Pouring some “Oran Delight” (bad brand name, Carson thought), he thought about what he could do until 2:00. There were no limitations, so he thought he would go into the basement and check out some of the “banned” stuff that his father had stored. “There are consequences for looking in these boxes,” his father had said. He had not mentioned what was inside of them. However, Carson had seen these every once in a while when his father and sister were out.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, Carson thought as he stepped down into the darkness. He found the switch and a dilapidated but still working light was turned on. Blaze didn’t follow in. He was trained that way. The basement was off limits for Pokémon.

Flaking white paint lined the walls. The boxes he was looking for were at the back of the nearly-unused room, so he walked past the old foosball table decorated with Sentret and Aipom and the old Pokémon china that were in the front of the room and opened one.

The first item of interest in this box was a blue eggshell. He knew what it had come from immediately. It was the eggshell of his mother’s Marill, preserved from when it had hatched when she lived in New Bark Town. It triggered the sad memories that came every time something connected to his mother was seen.

He set it down carefully and found another object. It was a silver badge in the shape of a C, the symbol of a Champion. Carson had realized the first time he had looked through the boxes the purpose of them; to hide the memories of his mother that he and his father shared.

He decided it was best for his sanity that he look no more. He’d seen enough other times his father and sister were somewhere else, and he didn’t need to feel the tears again.

He went back up and finished the sweet, fruity Oran juice. Then he played foosball by himself just for kicks. It was actually sort of fun, and this way he never need lose to his father, as he did most commonly, or hear his sister whine that she “never got a chance” to beat Carson with her Sentret (She always made him take Aipom).

Carson decided he’s go outside again. What better was there to do?

As he stepped outside, he arrived at the conclusion that he would go to the Daycare Center and help his aunt and uncle with whatever new acquaintances had been delivered.

The walk to the Daycare was only about a quarter-mile, so the trek was easy. What was harder, but albeit more fun and interesting, was taking care of Pokémon who weren’t yours and didn’t fully trust you.

Blaze followed him as he walked leisurely past the other old-fashioned beachfront houses. A man with a Shuckle on his shoulder said hi as Carson passed. He owed Carson’s family; Lyra had babysat the turtle-like, red shelled Pokémon while the rogue Silver roamed and had taken his other Pokémon, albeit Pokémon which he had eventually given back.

Greeting this neighbor although annoyed that all these people kept talking to him every time he passed by, Carson continued as his Growlithe barked in a friendly manner towards the yellow armed creature. Blaze was merely saying hello in Pokémon speech.

He reached the Daycare in good time. Based on what his watch said, it was 11:45. That was about a couple hours to stay before he walked home to let in his sister.

After Carson’s great-grandparents, the owners of the previous Daycare, had retired to a nursing home and later passed away, his aunt and uncle had set up this branch in Cianwood because their Champion sister (in law), had moved there.

Upon reaching the cheerfully painted mural of Lyra’s Pokémon on the wall of the daycare, dedicated to her, Carson sent his Phanpy out next to Blaze. Ellie and Blaze ran around together while he entered the Daycare Center.

The former Daycare building had been sold to Professor Elm so that he could have a second, smaller research building for his planned Goldenrod branch. This new facility was a great bit larger than its predecessor, sporting more space for Pokemon and for those who took care of them. But the experience that had been held by those who had passed on could never be put to use again.

A bell sounded, alerting his uncle. He rushed to the door to see if it was a customer. Named Will, he had blonde hair and was about the height of an upright Typhlosion. At the sight of Carson, he exclaimed “Come to help, have you? Well get to work!”

He said that in an irritated tone of voice. Carson looked at him strangely. “Oh, I’m kidding,” he assured. “But we’d like you to help. There’s a few problematic Geodude that keep punching us. Not enough to break any bones, they’re too nice for that, but…” He pulled up his shirt sleeve and showed off the dark bruises that his arm was covered in. “I understand a friendly punch in the arm, but it gets to be a bit too much when you’re a dude made of rock as opposed to a human one,” Will added. He often acted and spoke as if he was younger than forty-three, his actual age. Carson preferred this for the fact that he could talk with his uncle like an older cousin than another relative.

Carson went to the main room, where three Geodude were having a small brawl. He had Blaze follow him in, for the sake of some backup. He approached the cave creatures cautiously, each step having the Geodude become more hostile. Carson knew it was best to hang back a bit and gain its friendship from a small distance, lest he risk getting hurt.

He took a bit of Pokémon food (Rock Dream! Your best bet for keeping those pesky Rock types in bliss! Coming soon to your local grocer) from the care kitchen and placed it in front of the rocky, legless creature. It took a cautious bite, but after that it wolfed down the food like it hadn’t eaten in weeks. The other Geodude approached, but the one eating pushed them away. This instigated another melee in the room, and the food bowl was knocked flying by a misaimed punch, scattering Pokémon food all over the floor.

This ended the battle, as the Geodude spread out to gulp down all the tidbits off the floor. It was a strange sight, but a laughable one, and it saved the time of having to clean up. The Geodude jumped at Carson, giving him a punch-in-the-arm each, yelling “Dude,” and appeared to be asking for more food, and not too nicely. But Carson knew he could take care of it. He was Lyra’s son, after all.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><>
The door to the town creaked open as a tall girl turned the doorknob and pushed. The hunks of rock glanced in her direction, but they had calmed down considerably in the time that had passed. Carson, stroking Blaze in the corner and munching on a Lava Cookie, looked the way of the door more hopefully than the Geodude. It was one thing to be a Geodude looking at a girl, but in the context of a teenage boy it was much different. Especially for a girl you knew, and even more one you had known for a while. That was the context in which Carson looked at Alana Cerise.

She had raven-black hair that extended down to her waist, and eyes that were normally hazel but seemed to change color every once in a while. Sporting a brown coat and well-kept denim jeans, she walked in on her white shoes with neon green laces. Still the Geodude looked at her a different way than a boy, especially Carson, would. They saw just those things, but to a human Alana was more than the sum of her appearance. To Carson it was more like a dream.

“Letter for you, Carson,” she told him in that attractive voice he knew so well.

---------------------------
End chapter 1.

I wasn't too happy myself about this chapter, but it'll get better.I'd really like some feedback on this chapter so I can improve it as best as I can.
Chapter 2 is nearing the final stages of completion, but needs some going over.
Thanks.

Strangely enough, I found myself enjoying the prologue much more than the first chapter. It wasn't because of the actual events taking place in both chapters (with the prologue obviously being more energetic) but how you structured each one. In the prologue, you described when it was necessary and appropriate; thus the flow of text seemed more natural. In your first chapter, you kept doing stuff like this:

A small blue four-legged Pokémon with a short trunk dashed towards a tall, brown-haired teenager.

and worse off this:

She had raven-black hair that extended down to her waist, and eyes that were normally hazel but seemed to change color every once in a while. Sporting a brown coat and well-kept denim jeans, she walked in on her white shoes with neon green laces.

that slowed down the pacing of your story. It stopped the action of the plot. In general, your prologue used the description as a fluid motion that described as well as pushing the action forward. Your first chapter, on the other hand, was very stop-go-stop-go that it was kind of distracting.

Besides this, the actual sequence of action seemed very listy, like you had planned a list of what you wanted Carson to do

and converted it into prose form without trying to blend the action together. It doesn't really help that you often had one sentence per paragraph either. It made the read rather choppy, unlike your prologue where one piece of action swiftly moved into another one without having an awkward pause to describe something. A lot of your chapter honestly felt like filler:

He went back up and finished the sweet, fruity Oran juice. Then he played foosball by himself just for kicks. It was actually sort of fun, and this way he never need lose to his father, as he did most commonly, or hear his sister whine that she “never got a chance” to beat Carson with her Sentret (She always made him take Aipom).

Again, I point back to your "listy" action sequences. "He drank this. Then he did that. It was fun."

Anyway ... I know you weren't trying to make your chapter long, and perhaps describing this particular scene might have a point, but in its current state, it's just ... well, what's the point of telling me this? Any insertion of personality/thought from Carson is just blunt (again, the entire "describe something then execute it in action" thing I said earlier) and doesn't really indicate that Carson is bored, or Carson is enjoying himself. It's boring in the sense that it's written rather boringly, unfortunately. The description of your prologue seemed to have a point; the description in your first chapter sounded like filler and had no point other than to describe. Description can be used to emphasize emotions, speed up/slow down a scene, and so much more.

I guess my entire point of my repetitive rambling is to take whatever you did in your prologue, which is not worrying about heavily describing things, and focusing more on the sequence of action and the character's emotions. I could tell Lyra was a bit antsy about the ride even if you didn't tell the reader directly. You told me Carson was slightly bored in the first chapter, but it didn't come off as such. Use your action to describe things; don't stop the flow of work to describe what is going to happen before executing what is going to happen.

Likewise, consider merging paragraphs together, especially shorter ones, because that seems to be effecting the fluidity of your fic. You might also want to consider changing up the sentence structure of a few sentences so you're not repeating the same sentence structure one after the other. Ex:

He set it down carefully and found another object. It was a silver badge in the shape of a C, the symbol of a Champion. Carson had realized the first time he had looked through the boxes the purpose of them; to hide the memories of his mother that he and his father shared.

He decided it was best for his sanity that he look no more. He’d seen enough other times his father and sister were somewhere else, and he didn’t need to feel the tears again.

The similar structure here makes the story read as staccato and monotonous. Try combining a few of these sentences into one or changing up the structure entirely.

By the way, you used the semicolon incorrectly here. Try thinking of semicolons as periods; both clauses on each side of the semicolon should be able to function as its own complete sentence. Semicolons are useful when connecting two complete sentence with similar ideas. "To hide the memories of his mother ..." isn't a complete sentence, so you cannot use the semicolon. You're probably better off using a colon instead.

On another note, try not to information dump not unless there's a point to it besides describing a character. To quote the same section from earlier:

She had raven-black hair that extended down to her waist, and eyes that were normally hazel but seemed to change color every once in a while. Sporting a brown coat and well-kept denim jeans, she walked in on her white shoes with neon green laces.

You don't need to dump character description, or even setting description, in one huge go before continuing on. Like I said earlier, it stops the movement of your story. It also makes your work look a tad bit amateur. A lot of beginning writers information dump because they believe they have to describe what someone looks like otherwise the reader won't know what to imagine. Not true. Huge dumps of description, especially of character description, is actually more likely to get skimmed over if not ignored completely because it's just too much information in that is constructed in a completely flat way. Like who really cares about what her shoes are like other than she is, well, wearing them?

Try using character description to your advantage; quite often, people play or fidget around with their hair or their clothing when their conversing with people:

Ex) He pocketed his hands into the dark denim of his jeans and fiddled with a ball of lint.

"I'm a researcher, too!" she whined, tugging at her strands of dark blue hair. "I can help, you know!"

It's not that obvious that you're describing a character since it's worked into interaction with the character. The smaller breaks in description also help keep the fic moving. You did this a few times (description of Ellie and Blaze), but I feel you could have even broken it up even further, or merging in description of the pokemon with the action that they did.

Likewise, I'm not saying information is necessarily bad, but there should be some point to it. It usually works better in the context of another character observing another, like in scrutiny or maybe they have a crush on said character, and it shouldn't be crazily detailed either otherwise your readers might skip over it

Overall, I'm not exactly sure what this story is about but I do like how it started out with something that appeared to be an average day instead of jumping straight into the true plot. I do think the structure of it could use a lot of work so it reads more as a story rather than you listing off a sequence of events that have no effect on any of the characters involved.

Overall, I'm not exactly sure what this story is about but I do like how it started out with something that appeared to be an average day instead of jumping straight into the true plot. I do think the structure of it could use a lot of work so it reads more as a story rather than you listing off a sequence of events that have no effect on any of the characters involved.

I'm going into it slowly, showing what's normal rather than jumping into the story in the beginning. The next chapter goes into something not normal at all and ends at a cliffhanger, which solidifies the beginning of "not normal.

Thanks for the review, its the kind I wanted. I didn't quite think this chapter was good so I think you just hit the nail on the had as to why I thought it wasn't good, which I couldn't quite think of. Somewhat subconscious, I guess. And I do admit I am better at writing prologues than chapter 1s.

I'm pretty darn sure that applies for me as well. Chapter 1's really rock the boat. I've been reading and I'm not quite awesome enough to give you an excellent and helpful review like Breezy, sooo I'm going to point out the things I liked. :3

“But we’d like you to help. There’s a few problematic Geodude that keep punching us. Not enough to break any bones, they’re too nice for that, but…”

I can just imagine somebody walking around a corner, a geodude floats up and punches them for no reason. (Apart from the fact that Geodude's have no empathy for anyone.) Made me laugh anyway.

Pouring some “Oran Delight” (bad brand name, Carson thought),

Now I want some " Oran Delight"

He took a bit of Pokémon food (Rock Dream! Your best bet for keeping those pesky Rock types in bliss! Coming soon to your local grocer)

I'm pretty sure you are (if you aren't already) going to do some work in advertising.

Here we are with chapter 2. 3, of course, is in the works but I can't predict exactly when its done. Probably within the next 2 weeks or so.
------------------------------2
“…one whose soulless, uncaring egotricity is so impenetrable he will be immune…”
“These days, that’s an awfully big haystack to find a needle in, sir…”
“I know, I know. We’ll begin by searching the most obvious professions.”
“Legal and cable news…On it, sir.”
Wiley Miller, Non Sequitur, 10/13/10

Letter from the Dead
Carson approached her and nabbed the mailing while Alana shed her jacket and revealed the casual white tee underneath. The mailing was an inconspicuous envelope of the usual white paper, and the sender was listed as Cianwood City Center of Law and Order, 546 Lawyers Street, Cianwood City. Center of Law and Order? Did he get sued or something? He tore through the flap with ease and slipped out the sheet concealed inside. However normal it might have looked, it was nothing of the sort.

Carson Green,
We invite you to the reading of your Lyra Green’s newly found will Saturday the 21st of July. It was recently discovered in an overlooked place of her study on Indigo Plateau. Please come promptly at 4:00 the day of the reading to 546 Lawyers St. in the office of Maxwell Coteli, M.D. Thank you for your consideration, and we wish you good tidings.Yours truly,Dan Misami
Director of Services
Cianwood City Center of Law and Order

Carson suddenly felt sick to his stomach. More than half of his life had been spent trying to forget the tragic event. And yet it always came back to haunt him. Moreover, it puzzled him why she felt it necessary to write a will when she was in her prime. And something else, something unsettling, wasn’t right about this, although he couldn’t place it. Was it really that important he come? What would be so important his mother would officially sanction it for him?

Alana raised her eyebrows questioningly. Not wanting to read it out loud, he placed the paper into her hands. “It’s about my mother,” he specified.

She took a quick moment to read the small text, than handed the paper back and put her hand on his shoulder. She knew such discussion was usually out of the question. “Want to meet me at your house?” She questioned. His head nodded in agreement, and then turned towards the clock.

1:46 was what the old fashioned hand clock read, after he took a moment to remember which hands measured which. What could he say? He lived in a rapidly changing world. “Kids these days,” his grandfather, on his dad’s side, would have commented (this relative was fortunately still in the realm of the living).

Blaze made a mad dash for the door as Carson turned the coppery handle. “See you,” Alana said in the short and to the point manner she often used at the end of a conversation or event. Carson waved his hands and gazed back for a moment, said the same, and turned to step out into the salty air.

As the sound of waves licking the shore could be heard, Blaze barked playfully as he chased a sitting Wingull in a race it would never win. He wasn’t the type to blast the opposing enemy with Ember if it were just a friendly game of tag, nor would the attack do much to a Water type. Carson called him back as he pondered.

Why? He asked himself for the millionth time. Why did she have to die? What’s she giving to me anyway?

He glanced at the grass, waving softly in the breeze, lining the side of the path opposite the shoreline. What does grass feel like when the one that dropped its seed is killed? Anything at all? Does it feel a change in the air that tells it it’s on its own? Would it be better if we felt nothing about anyone?

He heard a laugh from behind him. It was Alana, dashing through the worn trail with the wind in her hair. “Race you!” she yelled jubilantly as she passed him.

He couldn’t resist. He galloped along after her with a breeze at his side, a friend in front, and his aunt and uncle, as well his newfound stony friends, in back. He decided emotion, good or bad, was better than nothing at all. Much better.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><>
He would have yelled “Haha! I win!” had it been his dad he was playing, but with his sister it was probably not a good idea. She threw the foosball, painted as a Poke Ball, at the peeling wall of the basement and stormed out. Of course, she knew better than to hurt the Sentret and Aipom players, as the last time she had done so it had meant no TV for a day. And she loved her TV to death.

Unfortunately, it took at least ten minutes to find the nook the white sphere had rolled into. When it turned up among a basket of letters (which had incidentally camouflaged them when he had looked that direction), he threw it into the happily-colored imitation of a soccer field and bounded up the creaky wooden steps.

The torturous sound of a kiddie show hit him as he passed through the hallway and he cringed in disappointment. How to Train Your Canine Pokémon was supposed to be on at 2:30, with a special section on teaching Growlithe Flamethrower. If the current time was 2:11, as it was, the show would be eleven minutes in by the time his sister finished. She insisted on watching the commercials, especially the one featuring a Plusle and Minun on a seesaw, for which she had been bugging their father every day (“But it has five musical seesaw themes, Daddy!”). So if the Houndour Training Vids fifteen-minute section came first, he would only watch a third of the Growlithe segment. Yay, I get to teach Blaze a third of Flamethrower, he joked to himself.

He wished Alana hadn’t had the prior commitment of working with her Mareep on Thundershock with her personal Pokémon Training Helper. She had remembered only just after she had run all the way to his house and won. As another downside, he’d heard girls at school talking about that exact training assistant. Would Alana like her new helper more? He was only seventeen, as compared to the sixteen of both Carson and Alana. He closed his eyes hard, something that always seemed to clear his brain. When he opened them, he found his sister running towards him. Well, not exactly towards Carson, as she was calling “Daddy!” He sidestepped her as she almost crashed into him.

“Whaaa! I almost hit you! Why are you standing there?” Carson actually did wonder why he was standing in the hallway lost in thought. Wouldn’t it be better to do it in a chair, or on a couch, or something?

Whether or not it was wasn’t the question, he knew, as the small dark-skinned girl passed him(adopted, of course). His sister asserted what the current question was when she yelled up the stairs, “Why isn’t the TV working!”

So much for a third of Flamethrower, Carson thought sarcastically.

“Claudia, I don’t know! There might have been a broken power line or something!” The voice that came from the upstairs office was sounding substantially annoyed, which was, of course, in direct relation to the fact that he was raising two children on his own while he had a full-time job. Claudia was almost always at a friend’s residence after school during the week, but on the weekends when his father usually worked at home he had to deal with it, most of the time.

“Claudia, leave Dad alone and we can go figure his out,” Carson said to save his father the time of finding whatever small problem was wrong.

“Fine,” she said gloomily. Carson wondered if she had unplugged something just so their father would come down and talk or play.

The tangled mess of wires behind the TV was hard to navigate, and he couldn’t find anything unplugged, torn, or whatever myriad of things could have happened to the tangled cords. He had to relent and explain that something must have been wrong with the power lines or the cable company.

“But there was a really good part where the Jigglypuff made everyone go to sleep and dream of Vulpix!” She exclaimed with vigor. Carson chuckled as he thought, oh really?<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><> “I’m coming, I’m coming!” exclaimed their father as he ran up the stairs to grab a notepad. They were scheduled to be at the reading in a mere eight minutes, not enough time to drive there, which was estimate to take more like nine. Claudia was wearing her special Clefairy dress (“But all my friends have it, Daddy!”) and Carson had quickly changed into a more formal, and yet not too much so, clothing consisting of a dark, collared shirt and long grey pants. Their father had to put on his dark, triangle-patterned tie, so ran into his closet after nabbing the grey notebook from his brand-new wood desk.

Blaze wore an orange collar that matched him quite well, and Ellie was hidden in the cold sphere resting inside Carson’s jacket. Carson fiddled with the handle and opened the door to step outside. Their red car, which was a good model and a gift from the Pokémon League, gleamed as the sun, well past the high-in-the-sky point of noon, sent down rays of golden light to the world below it. His family burst out the door and into the car, Blaze jumping to the headrest on Carson’s seat. The engine hummed, and the crimson vehicle sped towards its destination.

Now we’ll see what this is all about, Carson thought as they flew by a stray Meowth, which mewed its name mournfully at the sight of them.

“Can we have it, Daddy?” Claudia complained.

“Have what, Claudia?” He inquired, not having paid any attention to the distressed feline.

“A Meowth!” She answered excitedly. “It was on the road.”

“Claudia,” their father said, “Stray Pokémon are dangerous. And what if someone lost it and wants it back. Besides, we have Blaze and Ellie.”

“But Carson has Ellie!” She said sadly. Blaze understood the direction of the conversation, and so being was enlightened to jump upon her lap. She stroked its fiery fur and didn’t say anything else.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><>

“Now what room are we in?” Carson’s father inquired as they went down the hall. They were two minutes late, so they went a fast as they could while not appearing silly to the attorneys that frequented the building. When they approached the shining gold nameplate saying Maxwell Coteli, MD., Carson informed them promptly that this was the place. His father threw open the door and they stepped inside.

The first thing Carson noticed was the lineup of official–looking award plates listing varied notoriety for this Maxwell Coteli. He estimated at least twenty in all, but didn’t count as his gaze shifted to the tall man in the front, who was casually leaning back in his chair made of fine fibers.

“My my, you appear to be late,” the man said. This was Mr. Coteli? He certainly didn’t dress the part, as he was wearing a very normal coat and a pair of inconspicuous khaki pants. But if the awards said anything at all, it was that this man was not to be underestimated. Something else also seemed off about him, but he couldn’t place it.

Carson did a quick survey of the audience and gasped. Standing in the back was the batch of seven of the eight of the best trainers in Johto. From Falkner to Clair, with the exception of Pryce, each and every one was standing in this room at this very moment. Carson assumed he was in poor health, as it would have been news he had heard if he was dead. But those trainers couldn’t compare to the four masters who sat in luxurious chairs in the back row. Will. Koga. Bruno. Karen. And finally, the Champion by popular demand after the accident, Lance. Carson had met him once when he was young, as he did the Elite Four and a selection of the Gym Leaders. They all knew who Carson was, the son of their beloved champion who had passed on. He let out a breath as he sat in the padded red chair, and looking to the one beside him, he saw Professor Elm.

“So as you know, we have gathered to hear Lyra Green’s will. I’ll cut to the chase and read it, and then we can all leave, capiche? What the hell? Carson thought. How unprofessional can you be?

“So we will start with our good friend Professor Elm. You have received a very full Pokédex. Have fun.”

The Pokédex, thought Carson, remembering when he had looked through it in its current residence at the Daycare owned by his relatives, and seen all the Pokémon she had captured in her travels, currently in the PC unit in the Elm Pokémon Lab Goldenrod Branch. He knew Blaze and Ellie had been taken from there to be owned by their family. The rest were for starters or other uses, such as gifts.

“Now here we have the Gym Leaders receiving specific Pokémon in Lyra’s PC. The list says Falkner gets a Noctowl, Bugsy receives a Kricketot, Whitney has a new Slakoth, Morty obtains a Misdreavus, Chuck has got himself a Tyrogue, Jasmine nabs a Bronzor, Price takes a Jynx, and finally Clair has been awarded a Bagon. Nice that I used different vocabulary for each one, isn’t it? So go get your Pokémon, lucky winners.”

“So that’s why they were in the Do not do anything with box,” Elm was enlightened.

“Now,” Maxwell began, “we have a big load of Apricorns for Magnus. Oh wait a minute, he’s dead. Never mind. But we do have a Pokéathlon trained Machoke for Maximo. Go out there and get ‘em good, a’ right?” “Oookaaay,” Miles muttered under his breath.

“Now you Elite whatever get some cash Lyra had won battling trainers, but you can only use it to ‘further the good of the Pokémon League.’ So where are we? Oh yes, Lyra’s childhood friend, Ethan Nox.” Coteli paused as he glanced around the room. “Any Ethan’s here? No takers?” Well if any of ya see him, tell him he gets a bunch of items from Lyra’s Bag, which is a big list I don’t feel like saying right now.”

“I can get it to him,” Jasmine said from the back of the room.

“Well then, pretty, come up to my desk after to get the list,” Coteli informed.

“And now, folks, we are down to Lyra’s very own family. Lyra’s mother, who couldn’t come because of some leg surgery, gets a gigantic stash of berries for her garden. Next up, we have Will and Margerie Steinberger, brother and in-law respectively, who receive their very own Chansey!”

Carson groaned in his head as he heard the strange attorney talk with that always prevalent hint of sarcasm. He had to be a really good lawyer for anyone to hire the guy.

“And now we begin with Jonathan Green, husband to Lyra. You already own the house and everything in it anyway… so what could it be? Drum roll, please! The prize for the spouse is… nothing. What did you think? What else was there you haven’t got that you’d get? Don’t be greedy, isn’t everyone taught manners?”

“And you call that manners, do you,” his father muttered.

“Now for Carson Green, the young son of our deceased prodigy. It says something about the Pokemon in the PC… Here we are, it appears that after you finish you’re eventual journey, you get all the rest of the Pokémon in Lyra’s PC!”

Journey? Carson wasn’t planning a journey. Would he be forced to?

“My complements, young master, you have also won the grand prize of…a note from your mom, also to be read by your father, but yeah, it appears you own it. It apparently was supposed to be delivered when you were fifteen. But why would anyone want to own a note, I wonder? Wheee, I own a note! Yaaaaaaaay!” He said sarcastically.

Just get me out of here, Carson thought viciously.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><>
They exited the building in varying degrees of annoyance and happiness. Claudia’s skip in her step was the joy in being promised half the PC at the right age, and a Pokemon from it to be her own as soon as possible. Carson and their father, however, were feeling a little weird. What was with that guy?

A lot of things, actually.

The note, the only thing delivered at the event, in another of those common white envelopes, had been delivered upon the end of the reading, by a staff member who had collected it from the front office to bring in. It lay in Carson’s hand, unopened.

The feel of the moment was tense, like the calm before the storm. All those who had arrived were away once more, so it was lonely as they stepped towards the shiny vehicle they had come, and were to return, in.

Wow. I'm a fan. This really isn't bad. I really liked the prologue, it's one of my favorites I've read anywhere, but the first chapter, as you said, doesn't seem to be as fluid as it could be. I know how you feel, though. You have the Prolouge and maybe the end planned out, now you just have to get there. It seems to be getting better, though. I did get a bit confused though, at the end of the last chapter, though. Why did Mr. Coteli go from being relatively pleasant at the reading, to pulling a gun on Carson? Is it an intentional mystery? Or am I just not understanding something?

One more question: Where was Alana? Wasn't she supposed to meet them?

Overall, it's nice, and I can't wait to read more. I like the idea of a Champion being killed. It seems like the most heinous crime somebody can commit in the Pok&#232;mon world, or one of them.

Wow. I'm a fan. This really isn't bad. I really liked the prologue, it's one of my favorites I've read anywhere, but the first chapter, as you said, doesn't seem to be as fluid as it could be. I know how you feel, though. You have the Prolouge and maybe the end planned out, now you just have to get there. It seems to be getting better, though. I did get a bit confused though, at the end of the last chapter, though. Why did Mr. Coteli go from being relatively pleasant at the reading, to pulling a gun on Carson? Is it an intentional mystery? Or am I just not understanding something?

One more question: Where was Alana? Wasn't she supposed to meet them?

Overall, it's nice, and I can't wait to read more. I like the idea of a Champion being killed. It seems like the most heinous crime somebody can commit in the Pokčmon world, or one of them.

The lawyer incident is an intentional cliffhanger/mystery, and Alana, as mentioned somewhere, had prior commitments.
I do think the Champion being killed does provide for some nice and original plot.
Nice to see this is liked, of course.

“It’s been a long time, I thought my aim might have been off. But I assure you, I am perfectly capable of making you bleed anywhere on your god-damned body. So you, and the small little girl hiding behind you, are going to have mercy on one condition- That the envelope is mine.”

Maxwell chuckled, and then shook his head. “You compare me to that bunch of bozos? Complete idiots who can be defeated by children, in both their assaults? I assure you, I don’t come from such a group of losers as Team Rocket,” he explained. “They are made fun of in kid’s television shows! Do you see PokéKid Network with a program featuring anyone who has anything to do with real criminal masterpieces? No you don’t. So shut up, or you are gone, and I’ll pry the note out of your cold hands!” He snarled the last part, completely out of character based on all prior experience with the criminal, as he was just proved to be.

Why? What is so important about this note? Carson thought, having the first intelligent thought before the confusion as his father had been shot. So important murder is used to get it?

A flurry of barking came from Blaze, who ran forward toward Maxwell like a flaming arrow. Coteli smacked the outraged mutt with the butt of his pistol and kicked it in the stomach, the Growlithe sprawling across the parking lot. “I really kept the skills, after all these years…” Maxwell commented with twisted humor in his voice.

From the rooftop, a gigantic red insect leapt down, smacking the pavement hard, and ran towards the fiery dog, a single glowing claw extended viciously.

The poor canine took another blow and fell unconscious, not far from death. The Scizor turned its claws toward the two children, murderously screaming “Sciiiiii-zor!”

Carson was completely unarmed and Ellie was sitting, unaware of the events going on outside its little world, in the Poké Ball at his waist. With his loyal mutt down, he had no choice but to walk forward towards Maxwell Coteli, arm extended with the apparently important envelope.

The claws of the Scizor came very close to Carson’s defenseless head as he approached, and Coteli raised the gun to where Carson’s heart should be.

“I’ll take that…” he commented as he grabbed it.

It was too late for Carson to get the note back. But not, however, too late to avoid being hurt.

A white blur, from it a birdlike call, shot down and smashed the Scizor, banging into Coteli and sending both hurtling into the pavement. The blur became a large black swallow, staring at the pair of wrongdoers intently, while glancing towards Carson for a short moment.

The Swellow raised its wing and glided towards the crimson bug to slash it across the chest. The Brave Bird attack, followed by Air Slash, together dazed the Scizor, while Coteli made a call not unlike that the avian had made as it approached.

A hawk, white and black with a scythe-looking feather growth on its head, flew down towards the lawyer, whose precious handgun had been knocked towards the law building. While a blue-wearing man appeared on a Pidgeot, the Staraptor swooped low and let the lawyer, shirt covered in asphalt, leap on as he pressed the button on the metal globe to reclaim his damaged Bug type.

“You ‘aint seen nothing,” Maxwell yelled with malice as he took to the sky.

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His father choked on blood and wheezed again. “If Arceus is merciful, I’ll be seeing her again,” he said as he let out a gasping breath.

No, no… came to Carson’s mind as he listened to his father. “Da-dad, don’t… die…don’t…” he repeated, sobbing in between words. It wasn’t anything original, or inspiring, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“You need to…learn to battle… they’ll be coming for you… I wasn’t enough, your mother wasn’t, and they need revenge…I don’t think it will end until Claudia, and…you… are killed…and Ethan…Silver…”

He fell into another fit of coughing and more blood came out. The cruelty of that man knew no bounds. He must have shot in the right way, the right place, so that his father would suffer like this.

“Who, Dad!? Who wants to kill us?” Carson asked quickly, knowing that to know more was to have more to use against them.

“I’m sure your…mother…would have been proud of you,” he commented. “Now I will meet her again…”

There was nothing Carson could do as his father’s breathing slowed down to a complete stop.

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It was more quiet than Carson would have thought this high in the air. As he lay on the downy back of the Swellow, he pondered his problems and silently lamented on what he had left at home, what he would possibly never see again.

Dad…

Alana…

Will…Margerie…

All my friends…
He wouldn’t even be seeing his sister soon enough, who lay in the beak of a white and blue pelican Pokémon.

He glanced at the bird tamer astride a Pidgeot “We’ll be landing soon,” he informed, doing a small dive on his trusted bird.

“Why? Where?” Carson asked, gazing at the dead body that lay in the Swellow’s claws.

“I’m dropping you at Olivine,” Falkner answered, “for the reason you are in danger and need sanctuary. But be inconspicuous, and follow my exact directions.”

“Which are? And what’s making me in danger?”

“I’ll tell you the directions as we land. I can tell you this- you are going to be hunted, most likely for a prisoner, as our friendly lawyer didn’t seem to have too much inclination to shoot you, by criminals. These are real lawbreakers, not those silly Teams. They have contacts everywhere, and even some of our own, the Leaders, Elites, and their relatives, are on their side, some spies. In any case, trust no one.”

Trust no one. A common cliché. But nothing was fake about this, nor was it being broadcast on TV or printed in a book. If he wanted to survive, he had best heed those instructions.

The landing was the bumpiest part of the ride, but then Swellow knew what it was doing. They circled, so they wouldn’t need to dive downwards, and landed on a small grassy area directly north of the main area of Olivine. He held tight as he struck down, but relaxed as he leapt off. To fly was a joy that he would miss dearly, possibly the only real joy of the last hour.

He approached Claudia and held her arm. “I’ll be going, OK? Be nice to Falkner and anyone you meet.”

“She’ll be taken care of by Kurt’s daughter and Bugsy down in Azalea,” Falkner said. “ It’s a small, not usually noticed area, and she isn’t quite as much of a target for whatever reason, so she’ll most likely be safe.”

Most likely. So there’s still a chance she’ll be hurt, Carson thought as he gazed at the scenery, some of the ever-prevalent Johto Evergreens and a bustling city. Well, I suppose there’s no use prolonging things.

“Claudia, I have to go now, so be good and be careful,” he recommended as she threw her arms around him. Falkner pulled her away as he began to recite the way to the site where he would be staying. “On this same route, find a rocky hillside and climb up it. You’ll find a path with many forks, so turn right once, left once, and right twice more, where you will come upon a gate. Rap five times upon the metal, and then once ten seconds after the first three. To write it down is to risk being found out, and make sure not a soul is following you. I bid you good day, and stay safe.”

The Pidgeot and Pelliper swooped low to pick up the small girl and the Gym Leader, leaving Carson alone on the grassy plain.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <><><><> So here’s the hillside. Carson did a quick check for anyone around, and Blaze, released from his Poké Ball, barked as a middle-aged man and woman, presumably husband and wife, strolled past on the dirt road, kicking up a small bit of dust that triggered one of Carson’s asthma-related coughs.

The couple glanced back, but continued walking as they did so. Carson quickly checked for spies once more, and then scrambled up the slope. As he climbed, he grazed his hand as he lost balance and nearly gave his knee a bad abrasion, but other than that he had climbed safely. The fiery dog had no trouble bounding up with the superb agility it had gained as it grew older, and the mutt ran forward as if to test the path for traps or ambushes.

Right.

The fork led deep into a wood filled with pines, which gave the air a pleasant scent of nature. It was, however, a little bit creepy to Carson, and it got ever darker as they approached the next fork, which lead in three directions.

One, to the right, was a sunnier, tree-scarce area, one that was filled with dry plants and small yellow flowers. The one in the center went deeper into the wood, and the final path on the left was a dirt road that led next to the side of a cliff with smaller trees bordering the path.

Left.
The area he entered appeared to be another heavily forested path with about the same lighting as the path before this fork, but turned out to run along the side of a small pond filled with various Pokémon. Poliwag. Psyduck. Wooper. Carson named them as he stepped upon the marshy ground and returned Blaze, who he feared would scare the water Pokémon and not travel well on the moist mud.

The next fork approached. This person must really want to be alone, Carson surmised as he took the left, leading through a rocky field. The rocks were in mildly interesting colors, which included gold, black, light blue, and spotted brown, and a few bushes masked the damp soil below.

He suddenly felt the sea breeze as, finding two different paths once again; he took the rightmost one, remembering Falkner’s directions. While the one to the left led into yet more forest, the latter right one was a path where there began to be some seaside plants. It obviously led near the ocean, as the salty air and crashing sound increased the closer he approached.

One right turn later, he found himself on a warm beach. A large blue pelican with a beak sack large enough to swallow Carson whole swooped overhead, followed by two small Wingull, whose small wings flapped nonstop.

He got dangerously close to a Krabby in an attempt to befriend it, but it scared him off by showing off its still-developing pincers. The similar in shape, but not size, Kingler basked on a rock far offshore. Carson need not fear it for now.

The gate, bordering the wood, was obviously one that had stood for many years. About two of Carson stacked on top of each other heightwise would have almost approached the top, a fact he noticed as he began to follow Falkner’s instructions on knocking on the rusting barrier.

Five times, then once again ten seconds after.

He began to tap the gate, hard enough to alert whatever introvert would live in such an off-trail place as this. Carson admitted that it wasn’t a bad place to live, but rather lonely.

He finished the first five raps, then counting the seconds until the next knock would be set to occur. What was so secret about this, and why am I supposed to be here? Carson thought as, counting to the base of the metric system, he rapped again.

He waited. And waited. It had to have been at least two minutes before the door creaked open.

And a Feraligatr snatched him.

The light-blue, upright alligator carried him, not all that gently, through the gate and into an overgrown garden, with a fountain, out of order, in the middle. The Water type ran towards the grey door with purpose and knocked. This person really likes knocking, doesn’t he, Carson thought. Suddenly, the door opened fast and a man, most likely a similar age as to what Lyra would be now if she were still alive, strode out.

“So you know the entrance code, do you…” he muttered, running his fingers through his black hair. “But who knows, could always be a spy. Why are you here, anyway?”

“So that’s it… I knew I had seen you somewhere.” The man stared at his watch. “Well, its past seven… come in. Gharial, let him down. I think he’s had enough for one day.”

The blue Pokémon placed him down more gently than Carson had expected. As he stepped in, he thought about this strange character. How does he know me by memory? And who is he anyway? I feel like there’s something I haven’t been told. Something way too important…Plus he’s got a Feraligatr, and they’re pretty rare.

Select floorboards creaked whenever they were stepped upon, being three times: Once by the mysterious individual, once by Carson, and once by the large reptilian that followed. The wall was a dark grey and appeared to not have been painted in many years, and the kitchen was similarly colored with worn brown tiles on the counter, which stored a menagerie of rusted pots and pans.

“Not much, but its home,” the man commented. “Now wait while I check my messages. If you’re for real, something should be there right now. If nothing is there, you’re pretty much a prisoner. Can’t have anyone blabbing, especially not in a time like this.”

Time like what? Does Coteli have something to do with this? Carson waited for the mysterious person to confirm that Carson’s arrival was as planned. What if it was a trap? Could Falkner have been sided with Coteli?

“Well, that clears things up.” The man placed his strangely modern cell on the counter (for the fact that the house was very old and alone), and turned. “You’ll be staying here for possibly a few weeks, maybe even months, depending on how things turn out.” He made a motion to his Feraligatr, who leapt up from its seat on the floor and went upstairs.

“I thought I’d never have a guest again. Or guests. Do you have any Pokémon?”

“Yes, sir. I have a Growlithe named Blaze and a Phanpy named Ellie. Is that a problem?”

“’Corse not. I’ve got plenty of my own, and I’m sure some company would be great for them.” He walked over to the stove and pulled out an old pan. “Want some pancakes?”

Carson agreed. After a nice meal, he noticed it was eight o’ clock based on the white old-fashioned clock on the mantle of the fireplace.

“What room do I have?” Carson asked, ready to retire after a long, sad day.

“Upstairs, first door on the left. You can go wherever, as long as you avoid the room on the far end of the hall. You may not, under any circumstances that do not involve danger to you or your Pokémon, enter. Follow that one rule and you should be fine. Set your alarm to 7:30 and get up immediately to have breakfast.”

Carson nodded in agreement as he bounded up the stairs two at a time.

Who is this guy? He asked again. But soon enough, his question was too be answered.

He flipped on the light switch and threw open the door. His eyes jumped from object to object as he observed the room. Potions and healing items. A small keyboard. A one-person bed sitting on the floor. A black hat with a golden stripe lying next to an encyclopedia on a bookshelf with thousands of pages of materials.

A black hat with a gold stripe. Where did he remember it from?

His mind flashed back to an old picture of his mother. She stood in her blue-and-red traveling outfit next to a similarly aged young boy with a red jacket, black pants, and a cap that looked exactly like the one in this room. They smiled at the camera, a Totodile and Chikorita to their side. They wore backpacks as if they were going on a long journey.

Ethan.
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Well, here you are. Enjoy and give some constructive criticism if you can.

I didn't finish this as early as intended for a few reasons, but finally here it is, Chapter 4, for all you fanfic readers out there. Chapter 5 is only a few lines as I say this, but will hopefully grow over Thanksgiving Break and probably be here before Christmas.

4

Eagerly I wished for the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here forever more.
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

He never could get to sleep anywhere before 9:00; it was useless to try. He had Ellie and Blaze out of their capsules- they lounged around on the floor, obviously somewhat bored. He messed around with the keyboard, trying out the different sounds, and then went over to the full shelf of reading.

One first caught his eye was a large hardcover titled Analysis of the Use of Pokémon: Battling, Warfare, and Other Subjects. It appeared to be written by a professor at the University of Anko, somewhere far to the southwest. His name, as printed, was Ewan Lerac, and upon looking inside, he was alive as of three years ago, while he, after some basic math on Carson’s part, would be sixty-three now.

The chapters, some of which included Medical, Gambling, and Consumption, were long but appeared to have been thoroughly researched, and Carson had to assume this Prof. Lerac had a great deal of knowledge and a lot of time on his hands. The following was a selection from Medical.

Often the more mammalian Pokémon have similar organs to humans, thus are often used for transplants. The morality of this has been questioned many a time, as the Pokémon would be killed if it was a more vital organ. The big question is: which is more important? Human and Pokémon nature is to survive at all costs, unless they risk their lives for someone they love or have a death wish. So it is often believed that if it were a choice between human and Pokémon to survive, you use the simple rule of life- Eat or be eaten, although they aren’t really eating each other.

It was, actually, engrossing; Carson read more for forty-two minutes, by the clock on the desk. He also read:

Since ancient times, the major part of the population is largely vegetarian and consumes no Pokémon. However, many cults and religious groups consume Pokémon for their meals. It is usually illegal to do so, and legal action is almost always taken. It is another subject on which there is fierce moral debate. As it is proven that most Pokémon have intelligence equal (or greater) to that of humans, It is suggested they should have basic natural rights, such as those to life, liberty, and property. So in that frame of mind…

Too tired to read more, he collapsed and slept right then and there.

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He blinked, and slowly sat up as he heard a loud knock on the doorway.

I forgot the alarm. Stupid me, he thought in the usual teenage frame of mind in which you doubted yourself and what you could do.

“You forgot the alarm, sleepyhead. Next time, I won’t be so generous and you’ll have breakfast cold, but today I waited for you. So appreciated it, and move!” This voice, who he now knew was Ethan’s, was gruff and Carson figured he despised getting up early as much as he did

Carson realized he was in the same clothes he was wearing yesterday. Not only the alarm have I forgotten, he berated himself as he leapt out of bed to change. He wasn’t the usual wait-as-long-as-you-can-to-get-up-person, as were most of his friends back home, but he still walked with a sleepy gait that showed how little he enjoyed getting up at this time.

What will I be doing today? He thought as he threw on a red shirt he found in the drawer. It seemed Ethan was prepared for visitors, seeing as there was clothing of many different sizes in the compartments of the wood dresser. The question was: Why was he so prepared?

The best way to find out, he decided, was to go downstairs and see
what waited for him.

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All for breakfast was a bit of cold cereal, which was a crunchy but nearly
tasteless bowl of corn flakes. It was supplemented by some Pinap juice, which was decent but not nearly as good, to him, as the delicious blue Oran juice.

“Now when you finish, step outside, with your Pokémon, and make your way over to the field near the patio. Make sure your Pokémon are out and wait for me,” Ethan informed as he nabbed a sack containing who knows what and left through the sliding door.

In a few quick minutes, Carson followed suit, Ellie at one side and Blaze at the other, and stepped off the concrete that lined out the doorway. The field was somewhat small, but large enough for a Pokémon battle, and the forest bordered it on either side.

Ethan was nowhere to be seen, however. The bare grass swayed as Carson ran on it and stopped as he heard a faint rustling in the wood to his right. But it was too late when he realized what the trainer was planning, an exercise of the mind and reaction time.

The Feraligatr sprang out and caught the two Pokémon unawares. They struggled in its claws as Ethan stepped out onto the field from an inconspicuous bush.

“Let’s think,” he began. “If my Feraligatr had been your enemy, your Pokémon would be helpless, being small and not too strong, and you would be nearly defenseless. What we need is for you to have the skill and the mind to react, nearly immediately, to every move your enemy might make. But in the event that you are attacked and can defend yourself, you need to know how to fight. So we’ll start now.”

With that, a motion to Gharial caused Carson’s small friends to be thrown back onto the field. Blaze leapt up and growled, and Ellie shook off some grass and trumpeted to the blue alligator as Ethan led his Pokémon to the other side of the clearing.

“Gharial, a light Dragon Claw to see what they’ve got!” Ethan growled, shaping up to be a hard taskmaster. But there was no time to waste. Carson agonized over the counter, and thought of a ploy that just might work.

“E-Ellie, to the left! Blaze, t-take the enemy head on!” He stuttered this nervously, getting the jitters everyone gets in their first battle. In truth, he might have started training earlier in his life, but he hadn’t been motivated to do so. Now the motivation came from the choice to learn…

Or to die.

The former was preferred.

Blaze understood the order and ran towards Gharial, growling and releasing singing embers from his maw. Ellie dodged to the left as the blue menace slashed the space she would have been standing. Carson knew the opposing Pokémon was holding back, but was eager to prove he could learn the art of battle quickly and efficiently. The time came to issue the next order.

“Blaze!” he yelled to the mutt, “Bite! Ellie, Rollout ‘cross the field to gain energy and double back!”

The Water-type was bitten viciously on the snout and acted to throw the Growlithe off. The Phanpy made a half-loop in the dewy grass as it prepared to strike.

Carson’s strategy seemed to work. Gharial, annoyed by Blaze, was taken by surprise as the blue elephant struck him on the back of his torso with intense speed.

However, the Feraligatr was too powerful for even two enemies, albeit untrained ones. As Ethan yelled “Throw ‘em towards the other,” the reptilian grasped the Growlithe hard enough to tear it off, and hurled it like a Graveler might use Rock Throw towards Ellie, who had leapt back to roll away. Caught unawares, the Phanpy couldn’t react quickly enough to avoid a crushing defeat. They both fell in a heap, dazed and weakened, as Ethan blew a previously-concealed whistle.

“You failed,” he stated bluntly.

“But-”

“Save it. However, it was a good tactic that you thought of, and you
might still become wise enough to defeat me. What you need is reserve. You
don’t always need to attack straight out or too close up. In your position, I would have set the below grass on fire and let Blaze hang back to use its flames strategically as I used speed against Gharial with Phanpy. I’d say the defeat happened so early because you were too willing to get in close with Blaze. It was a perfect opening to nab your Growlithe and use it as a living weapon.”

“I see, sir,” Carson answered. “Can we try again?”

“No, not now,” replied his instructor. “You’ll need more education than this. Return your charges and come with me.”

Carson reflected as he followed those directions. It was true; He had lost. The Feraligatr had been holding off its real strength. So there was a chance of victory, a chance he had missed. He was far from passing with flying colors.

But he had learned something. That was what was important. However cheesy it might sound.

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“So first off, you should know who I am,” Ethan decided as they sat at a wooden table. It wasn’t a special table; just simple, natural wood patterns that swirled around each other randomly yet beautifully.

“You’re Ethan Nox,” Carson answered.

“Somthin’ tip you off, eh? Yep, that’s who I am. Moreover, I’m somewhat of a special agent and a hotel clerk at the same time. This here house isn’t just my home; members of a select crew use it as temporary housing. There are plenty of security measures around here; I saw you coming before you came within hundreds of yards of the door. Even those of the association don’t get a free pass: I make sure they aren’t turncoats before I let them through. It would be devastating if somebody hacked the systems here, and to add to that we have many supplies that we don’t want stolen. I-”

Stopping him in mid conversation, a knock emanated from the position of the door. “Do not move or make any noise,” he cautioned as they heard the knock, which was the code Carson had used to enter the previous day. At that, he dashed to the door.

The voice Carson heard was gentle and beautiful; it triggered memories of the will-reading, so he must have heard it there. But whose voice was it?

“I see Rockfall is in good shape,” the voice, obviously female, commented. Carson was curious, and crept towards the door silently.

However, the need for silence was ruled out as a shout came from the door. “It’s okay,Carson, Ethan called as he closed and locked the dark grey door, which creaked from the action.

Yes, it was someone from the will reading, that someone being the Olivine
City Gym Leader. There appeared to be some connection with Ethan and the Gym Leader, who wore a similar green dress as the one she had back in the day. The light brown-haired woman was followed by a monstrous boulder-creature with a small tan head and stubby little arms and legs of the same color and shade. Carson assumed something akin to him being nabbed by the Feraligatr had happened to Jasmine with the round Ground-type.

“I assume you two know who the other is,” Ethan deduced.

“Of course,” Jasmine replied softly. “We both attended the reading; I’m still sorry for the loss, after all these years. And I think I must have seen you as a little boy once, after the tragedy…” She fell silent, as if lapsing into thought.

“Mmhm, I remember that,” Carson answered in a tone that showed he was trying to make the situation a little friendlier. He did have a memory of the event-He recalled the funeral very clearly, and all the people that attended.

Carson’s eyes grew teary as he remembered the event, so recent and devastating. Today, he had kept it at the back of his mind, trying to forget it for just a little while. Now it came streaming back through the very core of his mind.

“Ethan,” she said smoothly, “I got something for the reading for you. Seems Lyra didn’t forget anyone. I even got a Bronzor; Not that I don’t have enough Steel-types, but he seems a good addition to the ensemble.”

She placed a bag of items on the table they meandered to, motioning to Ethan to glance inside. He felt through the contents, settling on one he appeared to find interesting.

“A Blue Flute…” he identified. Putting it to his mouth, he blew with finesse, letting the note emanate throughout the room. It seemed to perk the group up a bit, somehow; Carson was filled with much more energy (when compared to the previous amount, which was little as he had woken early), and Jasmine seemed to stand straighter.

“Based on that reaction, I think, it lives up to its description,” he
commented. “The Blue Flute is often used to wake up Pokémon affected by Sleep Powder or Sing, but it also seems to waken people too.” He replaced it in the sack. “Now let’s see…”

Ethan found another item of interest, the Choice Scarf. “It speeds Pokémon up considerably in battle,” he began after naming it, “but forces them to use one move, and one move only, until recalled. I think we can leave these items aside for now and converse, don’t you?” After replacing the scarf in its proper area, he set the bag on the other end of the table.

“Well, I don’t have too much time to chat,” Jasmine informed. “The monthly Lighthouse Festival is tomorrow; I need to assist preparation! But I can spare a few minutes, so why not?”

“As long as it’s fine to talk, Carson and I were doing some early battle training today. He needs to shape up his skills, and fast; they are organizing. They could be readying their next move even now. He shows promise, but has practically no experience in the field.”

“Well, as long as all ends well, train well and go with the flow,” Jasmine decided. ‘I stick with that philosophy, in any case.”

“We all have our own ways of doing things,” Ethan observed. “It makes us unique, and shows each other our good qualities.” As he said this, he looked at Jasmine with an unfamiliar intensity that Carson noticed passively.

“I should be going,” the woman said. “Take care, stay safe, live well, and don’t forget that true power is love.”

Carson thought that somewhat uncharacteristic of her for the situation, and then the realization hit him.

“And the same to you,” Ethan replied as he made a strange salute. It was similar to the common one, with an open hand; however, the finger between the thumb and the middle was curved downward at a right angle.

Ethan sighed as Jasmine stepped out into the garden, and the two resumed the lesson.

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“What is it between you and her?” Carson asked, somewhat intrusively. He could tell they had nice relations, but a sort of tension had occurred between them that he had noticed.

“Well,” Ethan began, “We were dating on and off since I came to live here, back when your mother and I were twenty-two… But I never got over it…”

“Over what?” Carson asked curiously.

Ethan whispered to him now. “Carson, I loved your mother,” he informed. “And I never could move on. Had things turned out differently, I might have tried what I could to have a relationship with her. However… she met your father.

“They were deeply in love by the time I ever got around to realizing I really wanted to be with her, enough that I knew my efforts were fruitless. Seeing little else to do, I took the job here, and met Jasmine a few times… but it still never found peace with myself, or with the world.”

Informative, and interesting, Carson thought as he prepared another comment.

“You still have years left,” he said wisely. “My mom’s dead. That’s that. But you still have life, and if you’re going to go anywhere with what’s left, I’d start with Jasmine.”

Ethan looked at him percievingly. I’m obviously more than I look, Carson thought.

He might be the one being trained, the one in danger. But he was determined that somehow, some way, he would be fixing things up here before he went. He owed Ethan that much.

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A lone man, clad in black, laid back in a recliner as a suited operative entered his office.

“Well?” the reclining shadowy character questioned. Obviously they both knew what the question was.

“Disappeared, sir.”

“Dammit.”

“However,” the agent continued, “Our forces are moving in on Azalea like foxes after a juicy piece of meat.”

“Father will get it this time. I’m surprised nobody has suspected. I also have a feeling that we’ll be seeing this boy again. Double the search efforts immediately.”

“As you say, Captain.”

Captain. He savored the thought. He was Captain, and he would soon be much more.

If Mother and Father could see me now… they would be bowing to me. It’ll be just a matter of time before they’ll see the true power of Johto…

I liked the inclusion of the Choice Scarf because it seems like in the last two chapters the whole story itself has picked up a choice scarf! The pacing picked up considerably, and I find this to be a positive improvement.

If I could offer one suggestion, it would be to consider how your characters would actually react in a given situation, or at least a more distinguishable personality. I'm speaking of the minor appearances here, not Carson. Once the characters become more "person" and less "plot device", I'll be hooked on the story.

Although as I type this it makes me wonder if you are doing that on purpose to give every single person an aura of mystery. Expect me to come up with some sort of fan-theory eventually!

Happy New Year! Chapter 5 here. You'll notice a 5th Generation Pokemon in the chapter. I'll be using them if I feel the need, but only if their English names are revealed.
------------------------------

5
“Action is the foundational key to all success.”
Pablo Picasso

The next few days passed quickly, but as a result of endless training and studying, Carson quickly showed an aptitude for a number of fields. Ellie and Blaze showed similar progress, learning alongside their trainer and growing a closer bond. As he continued in his lessons, he learned more about the strange house, the mysterious organization, and what he would need to make it once he went into the world.

Apparently, the association that Ethan related to was unnamed. A name attracted attention. Ethan simply called it The Association for practical means. Unfortunately, with the extreme secrecy of the organization, Carson learned little else. Facts such as current members, locations of said members, and current operations were withheld, leaving Carson ravenous for more.

The house contained a diverse many rooms on the two floors, enough to keep him occupied during his little time off the endless learning. To the right after a long first-floor hallway, he discovered the storage cache. It contained necessary supplies for The Association, whether for their Pokémon or themselves. Eying the items, he found one of choice, the Fire Stone. But Blaze needed much more training before it would be used.

Meanwhile, commotion ensued on television. Something, although unrecognizable, was happening that would change Johto, and maybe even the neighboring Kanto, forever, and it was reflected all over the media. Organized crime spurred forth, all pointing to one common foe; one that could not be distinguished. Towns fell into chaos. People disappeared daily. And nobody, not a soul, could tell where, or why, these dangers were surfacing.

Carson lay in relative safety as he saw this unfold, and Ethan ended up with more and more work to do. Carson was often left to train alone, and he felt lonely. While he had his Pokémon, and sometimes his new master, there was nobody his age to talk to, or have fun with. He realized that when he left this safehouse, he would need to find a companion. A human companion.

Then it came. His first real adventure.

It wasn’t away from the house indefinitely, and he wasn’t left to his own devices, but he helped. When Ethan came upon something he knew Carson was capable of assisting on a phone conversation, he saw the opportunity.

A disappearance in the woods. It was that simple, but yet wrapped in mystery and filled Carson with anticipation, both of good and of bad. He could finally show his true skills, but yet the path could be fraught with peril. Deciding to accept the co-op assignment, he and Ethan trudged into the woods.

“I have a lead,” Ethan commented as they entered the tree-filled expanse of Route 38. “A small lead, but a lead nonetheless.”

He explained it as they began on a still-sunny path. “Lately, there have been an increase in Gastly and Haunter sightings. As these Ghost-types are known for their mischief,” continued Ethan, “One can infer a connection between the jump in sightings and the disappearance.

“A larger force, one that drives the ghouls, is likely at work. If we can save this poor citizen, or even find a new lead, it will be recognizably helpful. So let’s do it well, and show them what we’ve got in us!” he exclaimed as they clambered through the wooded land.

Carson couldn’t decide on his thoughts about the woods. They looked quaint and beautiful on the outside, but often the darkness on the inside was eerie and you could almost feel an Ursaring about to leap out at you. The sounds from the Pokémon, often hidden in bushes or trees, didn’t help.

Blaze, walking beside him, seemed to feel this as well. You could see the nervous way his fur stood on end and the suspicious gait that confirmed this. At the cry of an Oddish, a high, squeaky chirp, the Fire-type let out a yelp, and each Pidgey call made him just a little more tense.

Soon enough, they reached a place where Ethan knew to stop. Extracting some equipment from his pack, he began to press the many buttons on a device with the appearance of night-vision goggles. But it wasn’t dark enough for night-vision, so something else must be able to be achieved by the device.

Carson didn’t have to ask.

“It’s a Silph Scope, premium edition. Normally, Ghost-types don’t show themselves completely. This does two things: a, finds them in their hiding place, and b, gives you full, clear vision of them so you can progress in battle.”

The technology was apparently very expensive and high-quality, something you didn’t see every day or in normal retail. Carson didn’t doubt for a second that it worked. Meanwhile, Blaze sniffed the pack and began to dig through it randomly.

Ethan glanced at the mutt and laughed. “I was going to save the snacks, but it appears I’ve been found out,” he joked.

The Haunter came forth, claws menacingly poised, as Blaze growled and a black, feline creature with yellow rings dotting its body hissed. The amorphous, triangular purple ghoul, levitating, unattached claws outstretched, seemed to want to turn back for a moment, but thought the better of it. His mentor carried the Silph Scope and saw all the described detail, but Carson could see the wisp that signified its presence.

“It’s time,” Ethan whispered.

Swiftly and efficiently, the order was given. “Bite, Blaze!” yelled Carson.

“Dark Pulse,” Ethan commanded strongly to his Umbreon.

In that moment, the Haunter shifted behind them, the Growlithe’s jaws clamping around where it used to be, but couldn’t avoid the blast of darkness-infused energy. It retreated behind the trees, leaving the two nervous and silent.

“As a general rule, Haunter and its relatives don’t relate too much with others,” Ethan commented quietly, “but color me surprised if it isn’t coming back with more…”

Whatever color surprised is, Ethan was denied it. Four Haunter, or four wisps of blue smoke in Carson’s case, entered the clearing not five seconds after Ethan spoke. Whichever one was the leader was impossible to discern, but it was obvious that they were organized and ready for battle.

Carson decided to move first, to take initiative. “Blaze, Ember!” he bluntly ordered, “and then again behind us!”

This time, though the ghastly apparitions could avoid the first wave of embers, they faltered when they snuck behind the two Trainers and were hit by the second blast. Another Dark Pulse quickly incapacitated all but one, who escaped into the night.

Ethan quickly pulled three variations of a Poke Ball, topped with blue and donning red hornlike stripes, from the pack he carried. “These Great Balls should do the trick,” he mentioned, “as they are mostly unconscious now. A less damaged enemy of their caliber might require an Ultra Ball.”

But luckily for them, the Great Balls worked their magic quite well. Soon they were walking through the forest once more with three annoyed Ghost-types prisoner.

One was released to see what they could gain. Carson now saw the triangular head, white eyes, and levitating hands, all a dark shade of purple, which Ethan had been able to see the minutes before when they had been in battle.

“Haunter,” Ethan said calmly, can you lead us to this person?” He pulled a sheet of paper with a face printed on it from the pack, placing it in front of Haunter’s face. The Pokemon seemed to identify it, but did not want to say anything about it. Ethan tried a bribe.

“For a snack?” He held up a brand of treat, labeled for Ghosts, to the reluctant informer. The Haunter inspected it, but decided against it.

A snack labeled for Poison types broke it. “Haunter is both Poison and Ghost type,” Ethan explained to his protégé as the Haunter munched.

The Haunter began to float off in a defined direction. “Seems we have a better lead now,” Ethan said as they began following.

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The sound eerily traveled through the night, causing Ethan to send himself hurtling into the bushes. Carson realized his overseer’s intentions seconds later, and performed a similar action.

It was a human sound; it might have been speech, albeit pained speech. Part scream, part plead, it was high but appeared to be from a male.

The Haunter was surprised by Carson and Ethan’s motions, but followed suit as it was now Ethan’s Pokemon.

The threesome listened in the bushes. As they moved forward in the underbrush, the sound got clearer until the words could be identified.

“No…” the voice said, in a moaning tone that noted how much pain he was bearing. “Just… promise you’ll spare her…”

Maliciously, a new, low voice broke in. “Promises can be made and will be kept under conditions- conditions I will now state.”

Ethan’s head rose above the bushes soundlessly as the next words were uttered. “The information must be totally and completely correct-” For a moment, a scream from the other person was released; “as well as complete. Anything missing, and promises become broken as easily as my Sneasel could break your bones.”

Ethan slowly made his way over to what the talkers appeared to be in: a worn cabin of dark-brown wood. Spotting a clawed, black Pokemon, a Sneasel, on guard, he avoided going out in the open. The wicked curved claws of the Sneasel glinted in the light; it was wise to avoid them, especially after the chilling cries that Carson assumed to be caused by other Sneasel claws. The Sneasel, complete with the usual red feather near the ear that the species liked to wear, seemed to hear something in the darkness despite Ethan’s attempts to be silent and passed the message to another guard on the opposite side of the shingled roof.

It was then decided that caution was a bad option. Ethan leapt up with a Poke Ball in hand, pressing the button that initiated the contained creature’s release. “Darmanitan, time for a little fun!” he exclaimed as the rooftop Sneasel raised its claws and shrieked in alarm.

The released Pokemon was unlike anything Carson had ever seen before. It was the red of a Fire type from first glance, and there was a resemblance to primate Pokemon such as Chimchar. However, it was much larger than Chimchar, and a large, mischievous smile replaced Chimchar’s happy grin. It stood on all fours, fists stabilizing it on the ground, and waited for the Sneasel to make the first move.

The Sneasel did. Claws extended, it came in viciously with a slash to Darmanitan’s face. The strange Pokemon, who had eyebrows that resembled flames, accepted Ethan’s order to counter with Fire Fang.

The Sneasel’s arm, outstretched in a Slash move, was engulfed in the flaming maw of the Fire type. The Dark type was quickly dispatched, thrown into the trees (Carson later learned Sneasel also had icy powers and was thus part Ice type and affected more by Darmanitan’s Fire type attack).

The tormentor of the screaming individual leapt out of the cabin with vigor, readying his own Poke Ball. Quickly released was a feline similar to Sneasel, but bigger and with a crest of many red feathers. “Weavile, ready Night Slash and wait for my order!” the man cried, who was concealed in a long black cloak.

The primate and the cat circled each other nervously, the large claws of the Weavile glowing black with the energy of Night Slash. “Let’s just make something clear,” the cloaked individual stated. “You attack me, I order my Sneasel to kill the captive immediately. Even if I cannot cry out, they will know I am incapacitated and follow through with the disposal. So if you want to avoid causing death, however indirectly, back down carefully and call off your… whatever it is.”

“I warn you, whoever you are,” Ethan began, “I can call in friends who will seriously outnumber you. So it is you who should be backing down; killing him will gain you nothing but blood on your hands.”

“Yes? Well, although my party of six was full, I enlisted some more help,” the enemy commented. Haunter, come!”

“Oh, you mean these?” Ethan said, revealing three Great Balls. Only one Haunter than came to the shady character’s aid; and it was then tackled by Ethan’s, who leapt from the bushes. The two Haunter dueled as the two trainers further sized up their opponents.

“I’ve half a mind to issue the order right now; call off the Haunter!” the cloaked enemy spoke. Ethan figured the Haunter tussle wasn’t much of a help anyway, so he thus whistled to his to return it to his side.

Ethan looked over his shoulder quickly to see what Carson was doing, but he was no longer there. But a shadow in the trees behind the Weavile trainer told Ethan he wasn’t abandoned…

“Return your… beast at once!” the cloaked man yelled, obviously getting annoyed. “I can and will follow through with the killing!”

Ethan knew all he needed to do now was buy time. Darmanitan was back by the time the shadow in the trees was just a few feet from the cabin, and Ethan raised his hands in defeat.

“Bargain for the prisoner?” Ethan asked, in his best impression of pleading.

“Nothing can get you anything, besides the possibility of survival.”

The statement of his was proved wrong almost immediately.

The cabin burst into flames.
-----------------------------------------
End Chapter 5. Chapter 6 isn't started yet, just got to posting this after finishing 5.

ETHAN NOOOOOO... He's not supposed to have Darmanitan! Only pokemon I like!

...

That outburst aside, you did a fairly good job with this chapter. It seemed less intense than Chapter 4, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. This one helped me to get a grasp on Ethan and Carson's relationship, which I find interesting.

Thanks to #1, no for #2. I don't really want to use to many Generation 5 Pokemon as Unova is a far away place, and Ethan's party is already full, although some in his party have not appeared yet. Plus, I don't want to use the Japanese names, so most 5th Generation Pokemon will be absent at the moment (yes, I know there's an unconfirmed list).

Sorry for the lateness of this, I've been playing some random games in a lot of my free time, so yeah. Here's chapter 6, hope it's enjoyable with all the waiting you had to do for it.
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6

It was too late for the Weavile trainer to act. The three Sneasel that had been the torturers looked around the room nervously for the threat, now unable to strike at the victim who had been taken from the table he had been strapped to. Ethan sent back in his Darmanitan, both Haunter snapped into battle as the moment’s silence was broken, the Weavile began to attack…

Needless to say, it was complete chaos.

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Carson collapsed as he reached his bed, immensely tired in body and mind. Within minutes, he was asleep as the rescued prisoner, injured and in shock, was carried through the house.

It was two past eight when he finally woke, having slept from somewhere around nine at night. It wasn’t so much the initial adventure but the mad rush home that gave his muscles such an ache and pained his feet so badly. Rising unsteadily, he glanced at the clock, noticing that he’d slept late under the circumstances of training in such a demanding regimen. In a gait that was almost falling down the stairs, he saw the wounds of their new ally being tended by two recognizable characters.

One, of course, was the owner of the house. But Ethan sat by yet another one of those ever present Gym Leaders, this time the white-wearing Whitney. Carson quickly saw why Whitney’s assistance was wanted: a Blissey, which he presumed was hers, was hard at work keeping the once-prisoner in good health. Both glanced up at Carson as he arrived in the room, and he blinked hard to regain his composure.

“Hi, Whitney. Morning,” he said, adjusting the squinting-related facial features he had on to a more relaxed look. “Is the prisoner okay?”

“He’ll be fine, after we help him a bit,” Whitney began in her trademark sweet voice. “He won’t be in good shape for weeks, though; he should stay here until he can be back to himself again.”

“His family? Won’t they be missing him?”

“We’re not sure about what to do there, yet,” answered Ethan. “We’ll have to do something, but it’s a dilemma considering the secrecy we want to keep.”

“We can’t let the family cry their eyes out as if he was gone!” Whitney said with enthusiasm. “Our best bet is to bring them here and have them swear secrecy.”

Of course, that led to another important question. “Do we even know who his family is, or even who he is?” Carson responded.

Carson had assumed the prisoner was sedated until he cut into the discussion himself. “I’m... he began faintly, “George Sakamoto.”

“And he’s finally up,” Whitney said, as the patient began to move his arms. “Wait, take it easy!” she half commanded, somewhat loudly, and George stopped.

“I see you’re as feisty as they tell of you to be,” George commented in a strained voice. Whitney frowned temporarily, then put her smile back on as she ushered Blissey over to the opposite side of the patient.

“Just keep still until we’re finished. Those are some nasty cuts, but I wouldn’t put atrocities like torture past those goons.”

“They aren’t your average goon, though…” George said. “I was in Goldenrod when Team Rocket locked it down and took over, and they sure weren’t like this. A child defeated them. From what I’ve heard from whomever it was who trapped me, these “goons” are much more. Would you mind (cough) getting me some water?” he ended.

“I’ll get it,” Carson offered, grabbing a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen, the room over from the dining room George was being attained to upon. He filled it with cool water from the faucet, deciding he’d get a drink himself once this one was delivered.

George gratefully drank once Carson returned with the water, Whitney raising and steadying his head so he could drink without being completely flat. In case you’ve never tried, it’s pretty hard to drink that way.

“What happened to the Sneasel guy?” George asked after gulping down his fill.

“Got away,” Ethan answered.

“We might as well get one thing over with, though,” Ethan continued. “Here it is: We can’t let you leave, at least not until the secrecy ends, which may very well be soon, with all the bad stuff going on… So in that same vein, we can also not let anyone you know in without compromising our secrecy. Your family will either have to deal with your disappearance until we can find a good solution, or come here and stay until we can sort it out. We’ll leave the decision up to you.”

“And what (ahem) gives you the right to do either?” George began, some anger bubbling up.

“Nothing.”

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George, once again a prisoner, acted in mixed emotions to Ethan and Carson. He was grateful that he was rescued, but angered that he had escaped one prison to be put in another. He much preferred this prison, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be there.

In a few days, he finally made the choice to have his family join him. From his information, they were a family of four, George’s wife, Tam, and his daughter and son, Lessa and Michael respectively, complementing George himself. Carson naturally wondered about their daughter, said to be fifteen, and, on a lesser note, how the new family as a whole would affect the abode as a whole. Their family Poliwhirl would be accompanying them, as well as the Yanma owned solely by Lessa herself, he had heard. Perhaps the key to Lessa would be through Pokemon? Of course, that was all hypothetical for whether he would actually genuinely like her or not. George seemed like of generally good character; did that indicate a better Lessa? Time would tell. In the meantime, he’d work on his training.

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As the mouth of the fiery canid enclosed upon the Noctowl, the owl of light brown, with a darker shade on the wings, screeched in reaction to the blow. Returning it with a trainer-ordered Extrasensory, it watched, smirking as well as an avian could, the red-orange dog be thrown back by the paranormal attack as the Noctowl flew away. It ruffled its feathers (sporting triangular patches on the chest area) and circled.

“Air Slash as you dive in!” Ethan Nox, sweating in the hot sun, ordered. Almost immediately the owl began a steep dive towards its opponent.

Carson wasn’t going to wait for Blaze to be knocked out cold, though. “Ready Flame Wheel!” Carson shouted, his Growlithe, in response, generating a hot flame over its body. Its opponent was not about to fly into its opponent blindly, however

“Nighteyes, veer off!” was Ethan’s reaction. “Extrasensory once more!”
What followed was nothing short of fantastical. Nighteyes had turned when near enough for Flame Wheel to hit, and attack Blaze did. But the Noctowl had counted on the fact that it could use Extrasensory well at that distance.

Nighteyes was slammed back by the forceful flaming Pokémon, and as a result of Flame Wheel had a raw patch on its feathers that indicated it was affected by a burn. But as it fell, so did Blaze from a full-power Extrasensory, sending the Growlithe sprawling for a second time. He released a final yip before he, and Nighteyes, nearly passed out.

Carson almost felt like passing out too, from how hot it was. Nothing, however, not even the heat, would have wanted him to spare the moment; Blaze stood on shaky legs, while still highly damaged, and Nighteyes still lay on the field. It was nothing short of victory, and not only a usual one at that, but his first against his mentor. He stepped up to Blaze, stroking its fur.

“I believe you’re the winner,” stated Carson, returning his friend to the Poke Ball that was his bed and board.

Ethan paused, not knowing what to say. If one thing was for certain, he wasn’t going to be showering Carson with praise.

In a quick conclusion, the chance passed by. A call from Gharial the Feraligatr, indicative of something urgent, came from the front of the large house, and Ethan quickly ran inside, Carson on his heels.

It was nearly undoubtedly the Sakamoto’s, which Carson thought could only be good news. Cooped up in this place for days on end could get on the boring side easily with only a mentor, often preoccupied with his duties to the Association, as human company.

Carson didn’t waste time getting Growlithe in good shape with the healing machine that the dwelling came equipped with. He left the Poke Ball in the machine as it worked its magic, and then traversed the stairs.

As was typical, Gharial held the guests securely before they were confirmed safe. A tall, brown haired woman, an annoyed expression on her face (somewhat more pale than most of the white race of which she belonged) was clenched, gently enough so that she wouldn’t be hurt, in one of his claws. Obviously Tam, George’s wife. The other hand held a small boy, probably about ten years of age, with the same hair brown as his mother’s, cut short. The clothing of both, a red skirt and green shirt respectively, was somewhat damaged by Gharial’s grip, the human bodies, of course, unharmed. Gharial might be rough, but he definitely didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Carson glanced around for the final family member, and saw another Pokemon, Darmanitan, holding another human body. He couldn’t see her face because her longish blonde hair had fallen over it when she was captured by the fiery ape, but he thought her hair was nice. It’s a start, thought Carson mildly.

As he otherwise noted while Darmanitan set her down along with Gharial performing the same action, she wore simple dark blue jeans and a white long sleeved shirt that left a portion of her belly open (which Carson noticed with pleasure).

“So, um, what is this place?” the small boy mentioned, all of them frowning because of the unorthodox methods of Ethan’s Pokémon. Carson didn’t pay much attention to this comment, as at that moment Lessa pulled back her hair and revealed her face, which, although not unmarked, Carson thought was beautiful although she wasn’t smiling.

“It’s a top secret special operations base,” Ethan answered, Carson predicting the reaction.

“Get real,” the boy responded, a similar comment as to the one predicted. Carson wasn’t sure about his name (maybe it starts with an S?), but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask someone’s name if they had just entered a top secret special operations base, to use Ethan’s description.

“Maybe if we show you around, you might change your mind?” he asked, glancing at Ethan to see whether he thought that was a good idea.

“Okay, maybe, um, we’ll do that,” Tam said. Carson could see why “um” was applicable in this situation; they had just been brought in somewhat violently to a large, mysterious mansion.

“I’ll lead,” he offered. “I’ve only recently gotten the lay of the land myself, you know?” He smiled as he said this, mostly in Lessa’s direction. She said nothing, but glanced away as if she was avoiding his gaze.

Carson laughed and began to lead the family. Things are about to become much more interesting around here…
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A black-wearing man sat in a swivel chair. The darkness made him hard to see, and another, obviously lower-ranking, operative was in a fold-out chair at the next desk over.

“Sir, communication from Private W has come in. The prisoner is saved and the abandoned cabin was burned to the ground. It was the work of one of the best agents the enemy has, Ethan Nox.” This was mentioned by the less-ranked.

“Typical, for that one to get us right when we least expected it,” the other said.

“That’s not all. We have reports that one other helped Ethan. In fact, this unknown trainer, who had a Growlithe, was possibly the reason the two could defeat the Private.”

“Get on with it, we don’t need dramatic pauses.”

The underling nodded. “We have reason to believe that this was none other than Carson Green, who we were searching for but disappeared weeks ago.”

“Yes? Tell me more, this is of extreme importance!” the higher-up claimed.

“Private W has tracked them somewhat, with a Sneasel. They evaded detection too well, but we now know the area in which we believe their base lies.

“It is somewhere in the vicinity of Route 39, 38, and finally Olivine. Unfortunately, that is currently all we know.”

The one in the swivel chair shivered with excitement. “I’d tell you to give Private W a raise, but his uselessness in the incident says otherwise. Get a team on the job immediately! It is time to end this!”